Message-ID: <3581eli$9709011202@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: MelLin6695@aol.com Subject: New TG from Waldo - Jane - Chapter 9a of 9b Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <970830120103_724048887@emout12.mail.aol.com> Jane by Waldo Chapter 9a of 9b Tarzan is a copyrighted character and this story is not intended to infringe on those rights. While my Tarzan has a similar storyline, its purpose is to entertain without claiming credit for the orignal Tarzan. All rights reserved by Author. Not to be read by minors or sold without explicit written permission of the author Chapter 9 - The letter Tarzan honored Lady Jane's request by treating Mary Beth as if she was his wife as they traveled, not a servant. People looked at him funny because here was a handsome, very virile young man with a very large woman that was larger than most big men. But he did it because Mary Beth was his childhood best friend, even though she didn't know his real identity. By the time that they got to the little sea town, she was very happy because she was carrying his child. She was happy because for the first time in her life, a man was treating her with respect and like a woman; not like an overgrown cow. The pregnancy, combined with the heat, combined with the rough in-land trek caused the two month journey to take over three months. But Tarzan stayed with her, taking his time, letting her travel only as far as she could handle each day. As expected, the whole village was excited to see them and to welcome their new sister - Mary Beth - to their village. Mary Beth's huge size impressed everyone as they considered the potential future generations of children from her offspring. Mary Beth didn't go completely native as Jane originally did, but did go somewhat native by offering to willingly participating in their mating customs. One week after her arrival in the village, Mary Beth opened her small suitcase and removed a envelope which she handed to Tarzan, simply saying "She asked to wait until now to give it to you." Tarzan sat down on a rock and opened the envelope that still bore light traces of her perfume. He read: My Dear Tarzan, I've just returned from the barn and am trying to compose myself so that I can logically write the things that I want to tell you but can't tell you in person. It hurts to look at you and to pretend that you're only a guest. By now, you and my best friend are away from here and back in the jungle at the place where my dear husband has done everything to help me forget. Before you read any further, I know who I really am and who you really are - I don't remember anything about the body exchange but I remember my life as a young man - as the savage that grew up in the jungle and was known as Tarzan. I knew about the chalice and as I began to remember things from my former life, I guessed what occurred in the mine and why it occurred. When you showed up here, I knew that it was time to write this letter, which I've begged Mary Beth to not give you until a week after your arrival back in the jungle. Where shall I start? How about the few things that I remembered when I first stared at my new reflection in the water? How about if I start with my earliest memories of this female body? I vaguely remember going over the falls and then fighting for my life in the churning water. Something happened - maybe I hit my head - that snapped me out of my confusion but my memory was still lost. I remember seeing an almost drowned old man floating by me and I grabbed him and pulled him to shore, not knowing who he was or my relationship with him. He was hurt but insisted that we quickly get away from the waterfall so I grabbed a large chunk of our busted- up raft and pushed us out to where the swift current took us downstream. Although he was hurt and couldn't take care of himself, let along me, he kept trying to take care of me. And he seemed to know me because he kept calling me Jane. That name meant nothing to me because I didn't remember anything about my previous life or who I was. But it was apparent that he knew me and that he had some strong reason that we should get out of that area as fast as we could. So I took care of him as we floated downstream. I knew that I was a woman because I had tits hanging from my chest and could see my reflection in the water. It felt funny to have tits but there were other things that also felt different. I felt so small and fragile as if I had shrunk. I also felt weak because I tried to pick the old man up and discovered that I wasn't as strong as I thought that I should be. And it didn't feel right when I squatted to pee. All those differences, but the tits were the most noticeable because of the way that they jiggled and constantly reminded me that I was a woman. I got the raft a couple of miles downstream and found a place where I could examine his wounds. It was nothing serious, just a dislocated shoulder and several cuts. Now that we had a few moments to relax, I asked him who was I? He told me that I was a English Lady that had joined his expedition and that both of us had been captured by the savages. He told me that I had been hurt by them and he rescued us but the only way out, was over the falls. He told me that they would be looking for us and that we had to get further away as we hid from them. Everything that he told me sounded logical so I believed him. As I guided the raft further downstream, I asked him more details about my life. Over several days and nights, I asked him all the questions that I could think of and he kept telling me about my life back in England. None of what he said, sounded familiar, but it sounded so good that I wanted to believe him. He told me about my big estate, about my rich father, about my big bedroom and my pampered existence. I had doubts about some of the stuff that he was telling me because it didn't sound familiar. I found it difficult to believe that I was a rich English woman because after all, I was dressed in only a native leather halter and riding a raft in the middle of Africa. But I wanted to believe him because it all sounded so wonderful - like a fairy tale. I wanted to sleep in a big bed with satin sheets hating my nightly bed made of freshly gathered grass. I wanted to have someone wait on me, rushing to honor my every request. I wanted to have a big room of my own where I could sleep safely, not having to worry about snakes or other dangerous animals. I wanted to be this person that he kept telling me that I was. Over several days of listening to him, I knew that if I wasn't the person that he was describing, that I would somehow become that person. So I answered to the name that he called me --Jane - even though I didn't think it was my name. After a week of drifting down-river at night and resting in a small cove during daytime, we became very close friends and I began to feel different as I looked and talked to him. I forgot about the large age difference between us and I began to react to him as if we were Adam and Eve - a man and woman all alone. I know now that it was a simple matter of hormones but I began to feel attracted to this old man. I began to tease him, easily recognizing that he was reacting to my obvious lush female body the way that I wanted him to react. I knew that he wanted me but wouldn't touch me - it wasn't the proper thing for a English gentleman to take advantage of a temporary disposed Lady. But in his eyes, I could see that he wanted me - almost more than he wanted to escape the jungle that he hated so much. My teasing was slight at first - a simple girlish flirtation where I would expose a little cleavage as I faced him, or not get completely out of sight as I daily bathed my naked body so that he could see me. After several days of waiting for him to make a move, I did it. I let him have me because I wanted to see what it was like. I know now that I wanted him mainly because of my curiosity to see what it was like to make love; but at that time, I had a strong sexual attraction toward him. You see, I had explored my body and knew what it looked like but couldn't remember what it felt like to have sex. The very first night after we escaped from the waterfall, while he slept, I undressed and examined myself seeking some clue to my identity, seeking something that looked familiar. I knew that I had a nice set of boobs, a tight little vagina and from the way that I could explore so deeply with my finger within my vagina, that I wasn't a virgin. But as I played with myself, I had these weird flashes of memories of a forgotten sex life that didn't go with my female body. For the first week, I frequently slipped away while he slept and played with myself so that I became quite an experienced masturbater, but at the moment of orgasm, I always imaged a big cock sticking out of my body, spurting away gobs of cum. I wanted to make love to Walt to see if I still had that same dream when I was with the real thing. While Walt had some age on him, I discovered that he could still get it up and keep it up long enough to provide me some relief from the physical and mental sexual desires that I was experiencing at that time. He couldn't give it to me as long or as frequently as I really desired it, but he was able to make me feel like a woman. Also his cock was smaller than I wanted, but he knew how to use what he had to really please me. I still remember lying on that bed of jungle grass the first time that we made love, my legs spread wide open, my ass coated with our mixed body fluids, our flushed bodies coated with sweat and wondering why we hadn't done this days sooner. Over the next several days, we tried to make up for lost time, like two teenagers on a desert island. Within a couple of days of sharing my bed with Walt, my unusual fantasy of having a cock faded away as my lover proceeded to make a real woman out of me. I did it all, letting him take in every position and even showing him some new ones that I didn't remember how I learned them. I discovered that I loved sex and couldn't get enough sex. It was difficult for Walt to keep up with my demands because I was in my prime and he was a middle-aged man who'd recently been hurt, so I spent a lot of our cuddle time working him into an erection, using whatever it took, which was usually my mouth. The first time that I let my lips touch his cock, I unexplainably shuddered as if I was breaking a long- time taboo, then I did it, enjoying the final result - a fully functional erection. As for Walt, he became like a spring chicken - banty rooster that is. He couldn't get enough sex either although he could only get it up once or twice a day. After the separate beds barrier between us had been removed, he was quite the horny little man. I discovered that I liked sucking his cock because he reciprocated by eating my pussy. I discovered that I liked having a cock shoved into me, whether it was my mouth, my ass or my pussy, I didn't care. I just wanted to be fucked and accepted it where ever I could get it and as often as I could get it. I was very horny at first and wanted it at first at least ten or twelve times a day which was about nine or eleven times more than Walt could oblige me. So he made me what we called a happy stick. If he was too tired or couldn't get it up after a little foreplay, he'd used the happy stick and his tongue to bring me to a couple of orgasms. When we weren't fucking, we were drifting downriver, still trying to get as far away as we could. Like a good wife, I cooked and took care of us. Somehow, I knew how to hunt, fish and how to dodge the natives that were all around us. It was my survival skills that got us down the river without dying of hunger or being discovered by nearby villages. After one midnight raid on a nearby village for salt, Walt returned with a native cotton dress and requested me to wear it instead of my leather clothes. It felt just as funny to put on the dress as it did to make love the first time. I looked at my reflection in the water and liked what I saw - a beautiful young woman wearing a plain dress and I imagined what I would look like in the proper clothes. Although I kept my old clothes for several more days, I only wore the dress because I like the way that it felt on me and the way that I looked. I liked the flowing skirt and the feel of it swishing about my legs. Wearing the dress and looking at my image in the water made me feel something that I thought was homesickness. The simple native dress refreshed my desire to know about the life that I had forgotten. I constantly asked him about my former life and built all these daydreams about my former life. Every once in awhile, I'd get a flashback and something wouldn't seem right. Like when I was sucking Walt's cock or feeling him pound his balls against my ass as he fucked me or having him suck on my boobies as he called them. There were other things, such as looking at my reflection in the water and not seeing anything that I really recognized. Neither my body nor my face looked familiar for a long time. Or I'd be hunting and feel this pent-up desire to sneak upon my prey like a big cat. I'd have flashbacks of hunting wild animals but it wouldn't be me - the female me, that is. It would be a naked wild man - a savage that was doing the hunting. I tried to forget the flashbacks because nothing made any sense. I decided that my injury had caused those flashbacks and ignored them as I ignored my dreams of anything but life in England. When we got to the coast, I knew that something was wrong, but wasn't sure what. I hadn't had a period since I regained my memory. As for Walt, I didn't tell him and continued to let him do what he enjoyed the best - taking care of me. We'd salvaged some gold so he immediately bought new clothes for me and had someone fix my hair for me. The first time that I saw my fixed-up reflection in a mirror, I knew that was what I wanted to look like. I eagerly discarded my native dress and bought some slips, some panties, some petticoats, some proper fitting shoes with two inch high heels and some pretty dresses. The woman that fixed my hair, trimmed it and shaped it into what she thought was the current style and showed me how to apply makeup. The first time that I looked at the reflected image of the very properly dressed young woman, I had the weirdest sensation - I wanted to fuck myself. I felt the strongest sexual desire to look at myself and to dress myself in appropriate finery. When I got back to the hotel room with Walt after that day's shopping, I gave him the best fuck of his life and he surprised me by getting it hard twice. I was wearing garters to hold my stockings up, still had my high heel shoes laced to my feet, and my slip. He declared that it was the best that he ever had and I bit my lip as I knew that it was the best for me also. I got him up early the next morning and had him take me back to the shops where I tried on a new dress and experimented with my appearance. That evening, he took a very stylist dressed young woman out to dinner and dancing at the best establishment in town - the military officer's club. Every one of the young officers was fawning over me, trying to impress me, trying to get into my panties. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the attention, the teasing and the way that they treated me. I enjoyed being on the dance floor and knowing that I could have any man that I wanted. When I left the club that night with Walt, I knew that I left several young men with broken hearts. The next day, one of the young men found some excuse to visit me at my hotel while Walt was down at the docks. I met him in the lobby and we sipped our tea and discussed the weather. Then without knowing why I did it except that I was feeling very horny, I asked him if he would like to rent a room for afternoon. In his room, I let him kiss me. Walt's not a big man but he's the perfect size for my small body. When we kiss or curl up together, we're the ideal size match-up. But this young man was tall, broad-shouldered and had a well-built body. I had to stand on my tiptoes, lean my head far back and he still had to stoop to kiss me. As we kissed, I pressed my body against his body and could feel his large erection pressing against my belly button. I didn't object as his hands cupped my ass or my boobs. I kept kissing him as he lifted me up so that our faces were level as he carried me to the bed. I knew it was wrong but I wanted him. He laid me on the bed and stood over me as he unbuttoned his shirt. My strong desire to be fucked by him immediately faded - simply because he had a hairy chest. I stared at his mat of chest hair and flat muscular chest and had an anxiety attack. Something about his manly chest was wrong and I couldn't go any further. I jumped to my feet and managed to get to the door before he caught my wrist. He was calling me names like `whore' and `bitch' as he dragged me back toward the bed. I struggled against him but his stronger strength was too much for my weaker and smaller body. He threw me on the bed and lifted my skirt to pull down my panties declaring that he `was going to take me'. Somehow I sneaked in a lucky kick and caught him in the balls. While he doubled up in pain, I ran out of the door and back to my room. In the privacy of my room, my rapidly beating heartbeat returned to normal and I questioned myself as to why I went with him and why I was so suddenly turned off. I decided that it was a combination of my body wanting to see what it was like to fuck someone closer to my own age and my mind wanting to be faithful to Walt. I didn't realize for a long time that the real reason that I rejected him, was because his hairy chest reminded me too much of my old chest. I was happy when we boarded our ship, quickly discovering that it opened up a whole new world to me. I discovered that I could enjoy being a tease with young men if I saved my frustration and allowed Walt to satisfy me later. I enjoyed sitting at the Captain's table, flirting with the young men, being with other young women my age and talking about the various men who were chasing after us in a socially acceptable chase method. I discovered that I enjoyed the idle and witless chatter of several women sitting around talking. I could lose myself and feel more at home at being the person who Walt kept telling me that I was. I met a young woman on the boat who I liked and we quickly became good friends. Like me, she was with an older man - it was a marriage arranged by her family. Because Walt and I were sharing a cabin, we pretended to be married. After all, we were sleeping with each other, so pretending to be married stopped some of the rumors. So as our two older men sat in the lounge and smoked their cigars, we two young women teamed up to prowl the ship as we pranced about in our finest clothes. We allowed young men to talk to us but we maintained the acceptable social distance as we flirted. I enjoyed going to the bathroom with another woman and sneaking a quick smoke as we fixed each other's hair or freshened our makeup before we returned to our tables. I enjoyed sitting in our cabin with her, both of us in our slips and talking about our lovers. I made up some lovers because I wanted her to think I was more experienced than I really was. I enjoyed sipping wine with a woman who was in her underwear just as I was, smoking cigarettes in the privacy of a locked cabin, telling lies about our lovers, and then dressing ourselves up so that we could walk along the social deck as if we were the biggest prudes in the world. He hired a nanny to spend a couple of hours every day to teach me the social graces and all of the unique women skills that I needed to know. I learned which fork to use, when to curtsy, and how to blush when a man told an off-color joke. I learned how to wash, comb, and brush my hair in different styles to match my wardrobe or the occasion. She taught me how to apply makeup and take care of my body because I revealed my menstruation worry to her. I still didn't have a period and she helped me with my calculations so I knew when the baby would probably be due if I have a bloody panty mess soon. When we arrived in England, I couldn't wait to get to Parker Mansion. I had to see the big house that I'd built so many daydreams over. As we rode up the driveway, I didn't want to get out of the carriage because the house was more than I really expected. My reality was better than my daydream. And my father? He was so happy to see me that he wouldn't have cared if Walt had been a black man. Daddy was concerned about the difference in our ages, but he didn't really care as long as I was happy. And I was so happy that I couldn't stand it. On my journeys here, I slept in some big beds in some nice hotel rooms with nice sheets, but nothing compared to my first night in my large and luxurious bedroom at Parker Manor. That night after a very strenuous and exciting love-making session with Walt in my new bedroom, I told him that I was pregnant - that he was the father of my unborn child. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /